Under the Eaves
by Milarca
Summary: During their stay at Lake-town, Bilbo has a cold. Thorin helps with that. Bagginshield.


**Note: **Many thanks to Stormrose Dewleaf for the wonderful beta, though I may have tinkered with this a bit more so any mistakes you see are entirely mine. Also on AO3.

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Bilbo sniffled miserably, shuttered away from the dwarves' merrymaking and boisterous song. He was wrapped all in furs and tucked into a sheltered corner of the smoky longhouse, a sturdy timber partition separating him from the glowing fire pit. The rich dwarven vocals were not considerably dampened, though, and Bilbo admitted that they were a comfort.

The bed in which he found himself was surprisingly comfortable and wholesome. A pallet of sweet hay under soft woven sheets, and pillows stuffed with duck down kept him well and warm.

However, his cold had taken the life out of him and he felt out of sorts, wishing for his own familiar hole in the ground to look forward to in the morning. He sighed wearily through his mouth, for his nose was no help at all in that regard.

"Does your illness continue?"

Bilbo jumped with a squeak and pulled the covers closer about himself. Thorin. Bilbo sighed and relaxed back down.

"You startled me. And unfortunately, yes, it does."

"I thought it had. Which is why I brought you this."

Bilbo realized Thorin was carrying a wooden tankard, and now held it out to him. He took it with careful hands.

"Thank you very much. Sit, please." Bilbo gestured to the adjacent elevated sleeping space. He sat up and sniffed the concoction. "This smells familiar. Is it…?"

"Lemon and honey," Thorin admitted a tad sheepishly. "It should help."

Bilbo inhaled deeply and was overcome at once with feelings of safety and home. To be honest he was surprised the dwarf knew of such remedies, but then again he knew relatively little about his cousins and their ways. Perhaps hobbits and dwarves were not so different after all. At least when it came to illness remedies. The steaming beverage tickled at his throat and he sipped it slowly. It was very good. "Thank you, again," Bilbo said.

Thorin nodded solemnly and settled back against the wall. They sat in companionable silence. Bilbo glanced over.

"How goes the evening?" he asked.

"Well, indeed..." Thorin peeked out into the main room. "Though I believe Fíli and Kíli have gotten hold of too much ale."

They both chuckled, Bilbo's ending with a sniffle.

"Do you feel at all more like yourself?" Thorin asked in concern. For a moment, Bilbo felt uncertain. He couldn't be sure, and he didn't want to kid himself into believing that Thorin had anything but the safety of the company in mind when he asked such questions.

"I should hope I will soon," he laughed. "And the lemon should speed my recovery."

Thorin nodded carefully. "Are you warm enough here?" At this he regarded the altogether plush bed doubtfully. Bilbo was about to laugh that comment away as well when he noticed something in Thorin's eyes, something that made his insides flutter nervously.

"Well it... it could be warmer," he said, taking a steadying breath and avoiding Thorin's eye. He and Thorin had exchanged conversations along their journey, and he had a feeling he knew the extent of Thorin's interest. However in regards to dwarves, a hobbit could never be too careful, all the same.

He braced himself for a rejection, or worse.

Thorin looked as if he wasn't quite sure he'd heard correctly, but then he caught Bilbo's eye, and something dark and warm stirred in the hobbit's belly.

"You want this?" Thorin murmured softly.

"Yes, I**—**Yes." Bilbo felt dizzy that Thorin was of his same mind, but it was a good dizziness. He offered a shy smile.

A spark of mischief found Thorin's eyes and he stood to draw the privacy curtain. Then he came over to sit beside Bilbo, and slipped an arm about his waist. Bilbo jumped slightly, but as Thorin drew him in closer and pressed ghosting kisses to his hair, he settled. He sighed silently as the dwarf's warm, woodsy scent washed over him. Thorin was clad in soft hides for the night so Bilbo had no trouble fitting in like a puzzle piece, long missing.

They stayed that way for some time, but then Thorin shifted and folded the covers back. Bilbo blinked sleepily and Thorin moved onto his side, gently pulling him down close. Bilbo turned inward and snuggled up, hardly noticing as the dwarf pulled the covers over them both.

Thorin kissed Bilbo's hair and wrapped steady arms around him, breathing becoming rough and controlled. Though Bilbo had already taken up a place in his heart, it had been many moons since he had experienced the comfort of men.

Still slightly nervous but pleased at the direction of events, Bilbo leaned in and whispered a careful kiss to Thorin's bare throat. Thorin inhaled sharply and Bilbo drew back in alarm.

"I'm**—**I'm sorry, I didn't**—**"

"No, no," Thorin laughed softly as he adjusted so he could see the hobbit. "I was only... surprised. It is a welcome gesture."

Bilbo had felt tears gather at his eyes and now breathed a sigh of relief. He had half expected to be thrust to the ground for such boldness, even if Thorin had kissed him first.

He realized he still must look confused, for Thorin gently tilted his chin up and kissed him. Bilbo blinked, eyes wide. It seemed as if his entire upper half were suddenly aflame. The feeling was delicious. Thorin watched him, then kissed him again, this time on the nose, then on the cheeks, and his eyelids and forehead; wherever he could reach. Bilbo giggled happily.

Then he realized Thorin had stopped, and looked immeasurably hesitant.

"I understand, Thorin," he said quietly. "Thank you." Bilbo then kissed the dwarf in return. He was about to pull away, but then Thorin pushed gently back, and they were kissing. This was a better kiss; warm and soft, and real. Bilbo's eyes fluttered closed and they separated, breathing together. Bilbo quickly cuddled up to Thorin once again, more firmly nestling into the small space as if he had a hundred times before.

Thorin clutched him close, a swell of dwarvish protection instinct coming over him, as if Bilbo were a treasure of the most valuable and beautiful metal. However, Thorin knew that the hobbit - _this _hobbit - was far more precious than any gem. Thorin ran his hand through Bilbo's ruffled, chestnut hair, and prayed to all those above and below to keep them safe throughout their journey.

Not for the first time, a shiver of unease rippled through him.


End file.
